Page 155 of Starside

And I want him.

My lips slip down the curve of his mask, toward his bare skin, and when my nose brushes against it, I tense.

He smells like his soap.

His fucking amazing soap.

I groan, and I can’t help it. I kiss up the side of his neck, needing to taste him, and he shudders, a tortured sound leaves his lips. I would think he hated it, I would stop, if his hand didn’t immediately lift to curl around the back of my head—and pin me to him.

He wants this. I do too. He tastes so fucking good, and I stroke him with my tongue, then suck against his pulse and—

“Aris,” he growls, my name like a curse and a prayer.

“Raker,” I gasp against his neck, and that’s the word that snaps any sense of self-control. The hand still gripping my ass and holding me up starts to move me on him, knowing what I need, rubbing me against him, and—“Oh my god,” I moan as liquid fire rushes through me, pooling between my legs, right where he’s working me against his metal. He goes harder, and I don’t think, I just roll my hips against him, helping, trying to get more of this delicious friction, my sensitive chest dragging against his armor with every movement.

Nothing else matters. Only this. A ruinous pleasure racing down my spine that’s all-consuming, blazing, awakening a primal need only he can satiate. My nails sink into the back of his neck, using him to move faster, and he just threads his other hand through my hair, keeping my lips against his skin. He’s burning up, pulse racing, and when my teeth graze his throat, he chokes out my name, and the sound nearly does me in. I’m burning from the inside out, nerves gleaming, pressure building inside me as I hurtle toward the edge of this cliff.

This feels so fucking good. But it’s not enough. I don’t want to feel metal; I want to feel him.

“Please. Take this off,” I beg, clawing at his armor, wondering if I’m leaving marks. He doesn’t seem to care. He nods. He’s going to do it. But first—

I reach up to his mask. My fingers skim its edge. I give him plenty of time to stop me, but he doesn’t. So slowly, slowly, I grip both sides. Lift it.

That’s when he drops me.

Before my feet even hit the ground, he unsheathes his blade in a flash, and blindly slashes right above my head, so close, I feel its whisper against my hair. If he didn’t know my exact height, I would be missing the top of my skull.

The fire dies. The cave is plunged back into cold darkness.

I open my eyes—

And gasp as Raker shoves me against the opposite wall, his boots sliding through the ashes of the demon he just slayed.

I groan, still trembling with the remnants of this desire, as his hands find my hips. As he pins them to the wall. I part my lips, wanting his hands to slide up and down my body in the darkness, across all the places I’m still aching.

But his voice is a growl. “This was nothing. You are nothing. Don’t get close to me again,” he snarls.

I open my mouth in shock, not even knowing what to say, but he doesn’t give me the chance. Before I can speak a single word, he turns and leaves me panting against the wall. Flushed with want.

The moment he’s gone, all that desire falls away. It turns cold.

It was the demon, then.

He doesn’t want me at all. Not really.

I know that now. He made himself very clear. But he doesn’t have to pretend like I was the only one influenced by this desire. We both acted on it. And I saved him. I’m the one who sensed the demon, who pulled him out of the path.

All that’s left now is sinking shame. My cheeks burn with it and fury as I struggle to find my shirts in the dark, and blindly pull them on, eyes stinging.

Of course I don’t want him. Of course he doesn’t want me. That fire demon would have made me want anyone.

I keep telling myself that as I stumble through the darkness, in the direction of Raker’s heavy steps. Fuck. Him.

I’d wanted to. A lot.

And that’s the fucking problem.

I stay far away, trying to erase those last few moments from my mind, letting that hatred of him build up again, like a wall between us.